


Halfway There

by cyanideinsomnia



Series: Post-Banishment Lucio [5]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: AMAB Asra (The Arcana), Aftercare, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lucio (The Arcana), Companionable Snark, Dominant Asra (The Arcana), Extremely Dubious Consent, Glory Hole, Knotting, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nadia (The Arcana) Route - Upright Ending, Now you're thinking with portals, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Banishment Lucio (The Arcana), Post-Canon, Spitroasting, This Is STUPID, Touch-Starved, cause the magician is a fox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26171788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia
Summary: Thankfully, he did stop, seeming to realize there was more to this than a stubborn ex-Count as his eyes moved downwards, widening in surprise and fascination.“You’re stuck in the gateway.”“Yeah, I figured that out, genius.”
Relationships: Asra/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Other(s)
Series: Post-Banishment Lucio [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680019
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Halfway There

**Author's Note:**

> this is nadia's goat, has been banished for a few years but not long enough to go full feral hobo
> 
> disclaimer: i haven't actually decided if asra is AMAB or AFAB (or if it matters), he mostly just has a dick here for lucio's convenience
> 
> he's still nonbinary !!

For -- a while, longer than an eon but shorter than eternity, Lucio had tracked Asra across the realms. 

He stayed low and quiet, out of sight, just another shadow in the trees, a true hunter, gradually drawing closer and closer to his prey with each crossing of their paths, now within a few meters of him. Close enough to faintly hear his breath, to watch the wind move individual strands of wild dandelion hair.

In the very beginning of his imprisonment, he might have used this closeness to ask him for help, as if the magician had ever cared enough to do so. Throw what was left of his pride to the wind long enough to beg for safe passage out of this hell.

Now he hunted and he waited and he watched. 

Watching him come and go as he pleased, judging how long his magical gates would remain open after he moved through them. At first he’d simply thrown a stone after him. One part to judge distance, one part a perverse hope it might strike him on the other side.

Then, in a fit of desperation, he'd skipped straight trying to follow, but was always too far behind, slamming into a wall of nothing or simply flinging himself into the air. 

But now, now he thought he could make it. This time would be different.

This time, his prey seemed more lax in his construction of the thing, meandering through it at an infuriatingly slow pace. He wondered if he knew he was watching him. He wondered if this was some kind of trap.

Then the gateway began to shrink, and he stopped wondering, immediately going from the hunter’s crouch to a flat run, launching himself at it with all the strength that he could muster, all the desperation pent up during his hunt, instinctively squinching his eyes shut in anticipation of the all-too-familiar pain of failure.

There was a moment of brief resistance, a pull of magic that was _different_ \--

\--and then the air was warm, something like wood beneath his arms, the scent of some exotic incense that was vaguely familiar burning in his nose. He could hear the distant murmur of voices, a bustling city street instead of the unfathomable whispers of the magical realms.

The former Count didn’t allow himself to hope until he opened his eyes, and realized he was in the backroom of what must have been Asra’s little shop, lying face down on a wooden floor next to a round table covered by a worn cloth, various arcane brick-a-brack surrounding him.

He made it. 

He actually made it. 

He was _home_ , sort of.

Only the thought that he didn’t know where Asra was stopped him from breaking down in tears right now, overcome with relief. He may have kissed the floor.

Lucio propped his hands on the wood in order to push himself up, only to find that there wasn’t any resistance beneath his legs. He couldn’t push back on them. They felt like they were just-- dangling in space, even though his body was very clearly horizontal. Wasn’t it? 

Or maybe vertical. Some sickening combination of the two.

He tried using just his arms, and felt a strange _tugging_ against his waist, just above his hips. As if something was holding it back. Stuck. He was stuck. 

A quick glance downwards confirmed this - where his lower half should be, there was just smooth hardwood. He was stuck in the floor, and the realms. Only _half_ of him had made it through. The gate had closed around him. 

Would it _keep_ closing? Was he about to be _bisected_??

Relief was swiftly replaced with panic, whimpering and curling his claws and nails into the floor to pull himself forward again, uselessly thrashing against nothing with his legs, trying, hoping, to squeeze the rest of the way through.

The gate remained unmoved around him.

 _Fuck_.

There was another voice, closer than the street, and he realized he was not only trapped but _exposed_ , in plain view for Asra to find when he returned to this room.

“Goodnight, Muri. Don’t wait up. I want to check the stockroom one more time.”

A deep rumbling that may have been a human voice murmured something unintelligible before there was the pounding of heavy footsteps heading upwards.. followed by lighter footsteps beginning to make their way back towards this room.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

He desperately scanned the room for any kind of covering, as most of his cape was trapped between realms with his legs. 

There was ostensibly some kind of loose fabric just within reach, swiftly swiping at it with his claws and wrapping it around himself in a clumsy, lumpy cocoon, hunkering down against the floor to keep its shape a bit more natural despite the hard edges of his armor.

Maybe he wouldn’t look back this far. Maybe he was just going to nip in and glance over the knickknacks above him. 

The footsteps abruptly stopped partway in the room, that obvious step and backtrack of someone suddenly noticing something out of place. “.. Faust? Is that you?”

Lucio didn’t know what sound Faust usually made, but something vaguely snake-like may have escaped him before he could stop himself, wincing as he knew that would just encourage him to investigate. 

“Oh, that sounds awful.” Don’t judge his snake noises. “Are you sick??”

Sure enough, the steps were growing louder and closer to him, a shadow falling across his cocoon before it was abruptly lifted off him. 

The magician yelped in surprise, dropping the blanket back over him. 

“What the-- _you?!_ How--” 

He yanked it off him again with a more dramatic flourish, as though he expected him to vanish in thin air on the second pass, scowling down at him when he obviously didn’t. All he could think to do was awkwardly grin up at him as if this was a normal visit and not a cross-realm intrusion.

Both hands raised in an appropriately magical wiggle. “Ta-da??” 

“Get the hell out.” Asra said, finally. 

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? Just get up and go.” 

He leaned over and grabbed his golden arm by the wrist, unnecessarily tight, and began to tug upwards. For a moment he yanked his body past where the magical resistance started, causing a ripple of pain up his spine and a horrible unnatural _stretching_ feeling, as though he was trying to rip him in half. 

Lucio whined and started pulling back against him. “Wait-- wait, stop--”

Thankfully, he did stop, seeming to realize there was more to this than a stubborn ex-Count as his eyes moved downwards, widening in surprise and fascination.

“You’re stuck in the gateway.”

“Yeah, I figured that out, genius.” He made another pass at pulling himself free, even though he knew it was futile. “Also, why is your gateway in the floor? Who _does_ that??”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Asra scoffed, kneeling down next to him and squinting at the floor trapping his waist. His hands moved to rest against it, presumably following some magical thing he was annoyed he couldn’t see. “Hold still, I can probably open it enough to…”

They abruptly stopped mid-reach, and he wasn’t sure he liked the look in his eye.

“... no.” 

“No??”

Now he was _grinning_ , and he definitely didn’t like that. 

“You worked very hard to get where you are right now.” The magician patted the floor next to him, almost lovingly. “You wanted so _badly_ to get in. It wouldn't be right to take that from you, would it?”

Lucio could only stare at him in horror. “Asra. Asra, you can’t possibly-- at least pull me the rest of the way in. Please.” 

“You made your bed, now lie in it.”

“Asra, _please_ \--”

But he was already getting up, still grinning that smug little cat grin, reaching over and dropping the blanket back over him, footsteps beginning to move towards the door. “Goodnight, Lucio.”

“You can’t just-- don’t leave me alone, not like this.” The words tumbled out before he could think to stop them, thrashing against the blanket and the floor in renewed panic. “Don’t do this to me, please. I just wanted to go home.”

“You won’t be alone.” Came his captor’s voice in an infuriating lilt. “I haven’t cleaned back here in a while, so there might be some special, leggy friends around. Try not to scream too loud.”

He stopped mid-struggle with a questioning whimper, blood running cold, skin already beginning to crawl. They were long gone, but all he could think of was little red legs and glistening crimson carapaces. Blood, pain, death.

Lucio shook his head and grasped for fury instead of fear. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of fear. 

“Damn you! You can’t do this to me, Asra!”

No response.

“Get back here! _Asra!_ ”

He could have done this all night - but he was stopped by the sudden warmth of a hand slapped against his mouth on the other side of the blanket. His whole body tensed beneath it, almost paralyzed in his grasp. He hadn’t heard him come back.

“What did I _just_ say?” Asra’s voice hissed. “Keep it down. People are trying to _sleep_.”

All he could manage was another frustrated noise that may have come out more like a whimper.

After a long moment, the hand moved, footsteps fading away before he could think to go back to yowling. The fury faded away with them, leaving the cold pit of fear in his gut once more.

He was alone. 

Alone, trapped and abandoned to the mercy of gods only knew _what_ lurked in here.

Silence fell over the backroom, or as silent as Vesuvia could be, broken only by his own labored panting and pounding heartbeat. His ears immediately strained to hear the sound of scuttling legs.

There was nothing. So far. 

Or was there? He wasn’t sure that was the city making that sound.

“Faust??”

Silence fell again, twice as ominous. He wasn’t sure if that meant she was here, or something _else_ had been startled into silence by his voice. He didn’t want to move the blanket for fear of what he might see on the other side. His imagination was bad enough.

“H-here snakey-snakey, good snakey-- can you tell your master to let me in?? Please??” He still couldn’t hear anything. “I am very stressed right now and would like to have all of me in one place, please.”

Something brushed against the back of his neck, and in an instant he was desperately thrashing against his shroud, screaming in terror. 

This time the blanket was yanked off him again before the hand was pressed against his lips, Asra’s expression somewhere between concern and annoyance. He fell still and whimpered, just shaking and panting against his hand.

“You’re not going to stop doing that unless I stay here with you, are you?”

With some shame, he slowly shook his head.

“Do you want me to hold your hand, too? Maybe warm up some milk for you in a little bottle?”

Lucio scowled and shook his head again, heavily debating biting him.

“I’m going to move my hand now. And you better keep your mouth shut.” Asra sighed, sounding more tired than anything. “You do know how to do that, right? It’s the opposite of open.”

Debate settled. The magician hissed in pain and drew his hand back. 

“What the hell?!”

“I kept my mouth shut.”

His tormentor gave a disgusted sigh, and once again made no move to free him from the gate, instead plucking up the discarded blanket and padding towards the table, curling up beneath it in his own little cocoon.

“Wasn’t Nadia supposed to have killed you?” He grunted. “Should I call her and have her finish the job?”

Lucio shuddered and tried not to think about that, instead focusing on giving his best charming smile. “.. you know, you could avoid all this if you just let me go.”

A slight pause.

“Let me in and _then_ let me go, specifically.”

“I don’t want you in my house.”

“I wasn’t going to stay here.” He whined. “I just don’t want to stay _there_.”

“That’s not my problem, Lucio,” Asra huffed, and shifted in his cocoon in order to grab for a decorative pillow - which was then tossed at him. “Go to sleep.”

Fluff and fabric smacked him squarely in the face, dropping in front of him on the floor before he’d fully registered what had happened. The smile was swiftly replaced with an indignant pout, torn between throwing it back and keeping it in case he wasn’t going to get another.

“This isn’t a goddamn _sleepover._ How am I supposed to sleep like this??” He violently gestured at his current position. “My _ass_ is out there, somewhere, unprotected and alone. Won’t you think of my ass??”

A low groan. “I don’t _want_ to think about your ass.”

“I didn’t want to think about _being attacked by_ _bugs,_ either, but we can't always have what we want.”

Although Asra’s presence on the floor with him either meant it was a bluff, or his standards really were that low.

“... there aren’t _actually_ any bugs around, are there??”

One purple eye opened, peering at him balefully through the cocoon. “No, but I can get you some if you don’t shut up.”

“That’s okay, I don’t want any.”

“A sea of bugs, Lucio. So many bugs. Bugs everywhere.” A bronze hand shifted free of the blanket to wiggle the fingers at him menacingly. “The more you talk, the more bugs you get.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again with a soft whine, slowly curling his arms around the pillow he’d thrown at his head, burying his face in it. The only benefit of this humiliation was that it was a bit more comfortable than what he had been using as a pillow in the realms - that is, the ground.

Not by much. He kept pricking himself with his armor, and he was forced to balance as much of his body as possible on one small pillow, the wood beginning to press painfully against his ribs the longer he remained still. He wanted so badly to lie flat, instead bent in half awkwardly against the floor, legs dangling helplessly in space.

After a long moment of trying to get comfortable, he bit his lip and hesitantly opened his mouth again, closed it, opened it again, tensing up as he waited for the coming flood of insects for his impertinence.

“... Asra, can I have another pillow? This kinda hurts.” He winced. “Without bugs, please.”

Another square of fluff and fabric smacked him in the face, and he quietly pushed it under himself to support his gut before curling back around the first one.

“Good _night_ , Lucio.” Asra grunted.

***

Something was tugging on his leg.

At first, it had been so gentle, barely perceptible - he’d thought it was just his own muscles twitching, that annoying habit of jolting himself awake. But then it became a bit more rough and insistent, as if something was trying to tug him back through.

“A-Asra, Asra wake up, something’s got me--”

For the moment he couldn’t move, just lying there and letting it pull - until another hand wrapped around his other leg and  _ yanked  _ back - or down? - and he felt the magical resistance slipping further up his body, beneath his ribs. Immediately he scrabbled against the floor to pull himself back up - or forward - with a sharp yelp, thrashing his legs against their captor.

“It’s pulling me in-- Asra, help--”

“Oh, good,” Came the half-asleep response. “My problem’s solving itself.”

“ _ Asra _ .” 

The tugging stopped, the gate settling closed around his waist again. Maybe he’d driven it off with his panicked thrashing. He hesitantly settled back down against his pillows, though there was definitely no way he was going to be able to sleep now, far too on edge.

After a long moment, the hands were back, gently braced against his thigh, what felt like fingers wrapping around the top of one boot, digging in between fabric and leather and slowly easing it off his leg, until he felt it pop free. The other soon followed. 

It wasn’t trying to  _ reclaim _ him, it was stealing his boots. What the hell? What did a magical creature need with designer boots?

Before he could think to kick it for such gall, he felt the hands move up to his hips instead, his breath caught in his throat as they slowly began to unfasten his pants, just as leisurely tugging them down his legs, until he could feel the brush of his own cape and the air of whatever realm they were trapped in against his naked flesh.

Lucio shuddered and pulled his thighs together to protect the business, still not entirely sure what the hell whatever was back there was trying to do, feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable.

It was made a bit clearer when he felt the hands running along freshly exposed skin, almost  _ caressing _ him, a warm and gentle touch in a place he hadn’t felt in that much longer than the concept of touch itself, and as if compelled his thighs began to spread open, allowing them explore him between them.

“Now it’s-- it’s touching me.” He wasn’t entirely sure what Asra was supposed to do about this, but he wasn’t sure if he should be letting it happen, either. “Pull me in, please, I don’t--”

For the moment it seemed content just to explore, hands roving along his body, stroking along his thighs, his stomach, his cock, slow and leisurely. Examining him like some fascinating specimen, testing his mortal skin for where it should touch him the most. The answer was everywhere, but it wouldn’t know that. Maybe it did. His legs were already shaking.

He made another pass at struggling against it, biting down on a whimper as he felt the hands curl around both asscheeks, spreading them apart, the warmth of a tongue against his ass, lathing along the rim, a sudden intrusion of intimacy he wasn’t prepared for. It was as terrifying as it was intoxicating, completely helpless and at the mercy of whatever had him. 

What would happen if it grew tired of him?

“Asra, please--”

“Keep it down,” Asra’s voice grunted.

He quickly covered his mouth with his hands, muffling a moan just as the tongue pushed inside him, thick and inhuman, arching back against it as well as he could, encouraging its owner to more thoroughly devour his vulnerable ass, tongue lashing against his inner walls with a sudden terrifying, exhilarating veracity at odds with its softer touch before.

It wasn’t long before he had to muffle a louder sound as climax ripped through him, painfully easily, his body no longer used to this much pleasure at once. And yet whatever had him was still  _ touching  _ him, stroking him, lathing trembling thighs with its tongue, lapping up the stream of cum dribbling down between them. It wasn’t done with him yet.

“Oh, fuck..” He breathed against his own hands. How much more was it going to do to him?

“.. what the hell are you  _ doing _ over there?”

Across from him, Asra’s blanket cocoon had flipped over so the magician was facing him, now wide awake and squinting at him as he struggled to keep himself together. He wasn’t sure how to tell him his prison had become some kind of magical glory hole, let alone whether or not he actually wanted to be freed from it.

“Th-there’s.. something’s got me.” Was all he could manage. “I can’t--” 

His words dissolved into a barely repressed keen as he felt something much thicker and harder start to push its way inside him, the heat of something like oils pouring over his naked ass, making its progression that much smoother until he could feel the heat of another body against him, his upper half instinctively lurching forward against the floor to compensate. 

He found himself drawn to hold onto his pillows as if it was another body beneath him as the one behind him - under him? - began to thrust, slow but deep, his claws sinking into the fabric as his back arched, legs spread, that sickening mix of horizontal and vertical giving him the sensation that he was being fucked mid-air.

Up and forward. Back and down. His upper half may have been moving in time with it, distantly wishing he could hump the pillows beneath him, his cock already hard again. 

As if the creature fucking him had heard that thought, the warmth of hands suddenly wrapped around his cock, gripping him with both of them, stroking along the length in time with the thrusts, his hips jerking up into them with a sharp gasp.

He hardly noticed Asra had moved closer until a shadow fell across him again, glancing up to see fascinated, almost predatory purple eyes, the heat of a blush across tan features. 

“Do I want to know what’s happening to you right now?” He mused, in a tone that implied he already knew. 

Without thinking, Lucio relinquished his grip on his pillows with his flesh hand, blindly pawing at the magician’s crotch. When Asra shoved it away, he grabbed for the hand instead, drawing it towards himself, fucking his hungry mouth with his fingers. He wanted that sensation on both ends, to be completely filled.

Swift and rather violent fingers dug into his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to drop the hand in surprise. He didn’t bother fighting it - all he could do was stare expectantly up at him, panting and shaking. 

“A-Asra, please..” He gasped. “I want your dick. Or your pussy. Whatever’s in there, I need it in my mouth.  _ Please. _ ”

One pale brow quirked. “You’re just as bad as Ilya. No wonder you were obsessed with him.”

“Please.. I need it..”

After what felt like eternity, he finally let his head drop, his upper half nearly following suit as another climax tore through his body, cum soaking the hands gripping his cock, the other cock continuing to pound away as if nothing had happened, a mix of intense pleasure and pain he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop. He wasn’t sure what sound he made, was making, struggling to hold onto consciousness, helplessly pawing at Asra’s pants again.

“Well, I guess it is one way to shut you up.” Asra’s voice murmured after a moment longer. “If you bite me, I’m closing the gate on you.”

He heard a shift of fabric before the fingers were digging into his hair again, jerking his head up as something thick and warm slid into his mouth, once again nearly suffocated by the scent of incense. He shuddered in relief, gripping the magician’s thighs with the same veracity as his pillows as he began to suck, greedy and desperate.

“Damn, you  _ are  _ as bad as Ilya,” His captor gasped out, shifting his grip to both sides of his head before he felt his hips begin to push back against him, fucking his mouth as much as letting him suck his dick. It was almost as if he knew what he wanted. 

Harder, deeper, faster, a blur of sensation. He wanted it all.

His whole body was being bounced against the floor by the push and pull of both cocks, threatening to rip him in half all over again, wanting to bury himself into both sides. He had more control over the front, lunging forward and forcing Asra’s cock further into his throat on the next punishing thrust, swallowing against it.

The fingers in his hair tightened their grip, quickening his pace, nearly choking him. The cock inside him slammed that much deeper in, suddenly becoming much wider at the base before that was sucked in as well, the whole thing being moved around inside him for a few thrusts before that thick part slid out, only to be forced inside him again, back and forth, a dizzyingly rapid stretching and clenching he wasn’t sure how to process.

His fingers dug that much harder into Asra’s pants as he felt the thick part force itself inside him one more time, the hands at his hips holding him tightly against it as a burst of heat and wetness flooded him, trapped inside him by that thickness, clamping down that much harder on the cock in his mouth and feeling that warmth as well, just as desperately swallowing it down, as if he intended to suck him dry. 

He couldn’t help but weakly lick it as it was being pulled out of his mouth, a half-assed attempt to clean him despite having already consumed all the evidence, nestling his face in his lap and draping his arms around his waist instead.

The cock on the other end slowly pulled out, a flood of cum dripping down his thighs in its wake, the sudden overwhelming warmth of it forcing another shudder of climax through his aching body with a low groan and a weaker grip on his prey, while the predator seemed to have gotten its fill and was no longer touching him.

A shame. If anything, he craved touch that much more now.

Asra was gently stroking his hair, apparently not yet in the mood to push him away. It felt nice. He breathed a soft sigh of contentment and leaned up into his touch, so far gone he didn’t care who it was touching him now.

“Do you still want me to let you in? Because it seemed like you had a lot of fun like this.” 

“Mmf..” He was too tired to feel indignant. “Only so you can hold me better.”

The magician chuckled. “Let me guess: you wanna be the little spoon.”

Lucio just nodded his head, while making no move to release Asra’s legs, finding it was rather comfortable here. He could stay like this for hours.

As he began to drift off, he heard another murmur in Asra’s voice, and then a deep rumble that sounded like thunder, which caused the fingers to immediately stop stroking through his hair, the thigh beneath his cheek tensing up. 

“Why’d you stop..?” 

“ _ Shhh _ .” The fingers clamped down, jerking his head off his lap and jolting him the rest of the way awake with a confused whine. “You can’t be here.”

Before he could question it, he was being shoved down into the floor, the magical resistance abruptly broken, feeling as though he was being pushed underwater, helplessly thrashing against him, trying to climb back up--

And then he was on his back on the grass in the realms, still half-naked and covered in his own cum, completely alone. 

He didn’t have to look to know the gateway was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> the magician is also nonbinary, but absolutely was not about to skip the chance to yiff a goat w/ full furry dick

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Guilty Pleasures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508799) by [cyanideinsomnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia)




End file.
